I thought I'd have time to write a good post, but instead I'm packing for yet another road trip. This one will take me to Dallas where I hope to see my nephew and his family before flying home. Why am I going? Youngest son Tommy graduated from college last week; he is going to San Diego and I'm riding along for part of the trip. He'll pick up a friend in Texas to continue the journey with him. So I will probably not be posting much until the end of the week. Here are a few quick updates.
Home news: The gardens are in pretty good shape and Larry will be here to water, etc. He's got company too--our grand-dog Benson is here for a few weeks while his family moves to a new home. I brought plants home from the reunion that will have to wait until I get home again to plant. I picked cherries this morning, enough for a pie, I think, and they're going to have to wait until I get back--maybe a Memorial Day pie? Lumber arrived this morning from 84 Lumber for the floor joists and subfloor for the new log room we'll be building this summer. Larry bought a new banjo last week for his weeklong beginning banjo class at Allegheny Echoes and I got replacement strings for my dulcimer.
Family news: Granddaughter Kate is graduating soon, as is our niece Carmella, and granddaughter Cassie is in LA with her music publishing company--where she met Ted Danson! And she didn't even know who he was. Generation gap for sure. Granddaughter Allison got a scholarship to a private high school for her volleyball, Haley will be working at my sister Judy's stables this summer, and Sarah plans to spend her next college semester in Ecuador. Derek returned home from 2 weeks on the road with his training program
for the Army National Guard and was able to stop by Niagara Falls on the
way home. I've been busy responding to requests for storytelling for
this summer. Grandson Clayton participated in the WV State High School Track Meet this past weekend but I haven't heard yet how that went. So many things are happening in this family, so many good things.
I'll be back on Friday, I hope, unless I find a way to post while on the road. Meantime have a good week and I'll see you on Friday (which is Larry's birthday, come to think of it!)
Copyright 2007 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Family reunion! It was fabulous. Three days with family was all that I imagined it to be. I'll be back later to update on the reunion and other things going on around here, just wanted you to know I haven't fallen off the face of the earth.
Copyright 2007 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
Copyright 2007 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Vintage Thursday: Auction Time
My car can hold a lot of stuff!
In the hatch: 4 foot round oak table with drop leaves, an oak occasional table with the coolest little porcelain casters, and a solid marble table top about 2x3 feet. Some other odds and ends were tucked in around and under.
Then in the back seat, more stuff, including a rocking chair, wrought iron 4-tier shelf with glass shelves, a few boxes of odds and ends, and (best deal, according to Larry) a pair of work coveralls. It's a mess but we had a time getting it all in the car.
Then there were two leaded glass windows to put in too. One is in good shape, the other not so good but still nice. Somewhere hidden in here is a stoneware cookie jar, a Fenton amethyst vase, and ...
yes, a set of sip n strip glasses--how weird is that. I listed these on eBay. It was an interesting evening at the auction; I did get some odd looks when I got these in a lot; not something a granny would buy! I hope they sell, though.
There were other good finds last week, and I'll try to post them later. I hope your weekend finds were fine too!
Copyright 2007 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Going Across the Mountains: Day 2
From my journal, May 12, 2012:
It is 6:00 am in Hinton, WV. Birds have been singing for an hour, welcoming a day that has not yet dawned. A train whistle sounds somewhere downriver. Fog blankets the town, hiding the sheltering mountains that slope up and away from the mighty New, Bluestone, and Sandstone rivers.
Out of my window I see the black-and-whites pull in; an officer gets out of one, punches a code and enters the city building. I wonder what mischief occurred in the night or if all was merely routine patrol in this small river town. A car clatters over the brick street; a truck towing a boat heads out, perhaps for a day of fishing. Across the street a Halloween banner hangs on gambrel-roofed house that once sported a two-story front porch. The porch has been replaced by a one-dimensional deck, leaving double doors on the second floor open to nothingness. A knockout red rose blooms wildly in the yard beside a patriotic flag and a mossy cut-stone wall.
On the opposite corner a neatly trimmed hedge edges the street for a short, undefined distance. I wonder who keeps it maintained so squarely because the hedge seems to start and stop with no apparent relevance, but then I see that once it edged the entire corner until a handicapped-accessible curb was built. Poison ivy struggles to take a stand in the hedge but it too is regimentally trimmed to a rigid box shape.
A train's engine rumbles louder and louder; a freight moving through? Where is it going and what is it hauling? Yesterday an Amtrak train passed us like we were sitting still although we were traveling about 60 miles per hour. This train sounds like its load is a heavy one, perhaps coal from the mines not far away. Mines are never far away in southern West Virginia.
Quiet descends when the train has passed. The highway below me, Route 20, is not busy at six o'clock on a Saturday morning. The town still sleeps. I, sitting in the curving bow window on the second floor of the Chestnut Revival Bed and Breakfast, watch the day begin 200 miles from my own bed yet I feel completely at home. Behind me Larry sleeps in the tall four-poster bed with downy blankets drawn to his chin. Floorboards creak with age but not human weight.
I look out at a church steeple, a tall pink brick building with an elevator room jutting from its roof, at Bluestone Tire not yet open for the day's business, and at turn-of-the-twentieth-century brick homes with dark windows. An early walker startles me. She is an elderly woman in tan slacks, white cardigan. She passes quickly, one hand on her hip as if that side is painful and needs the comfort of a touch. Her gray hair disappears around a corner. A truck passes. Larry stirs. Another truck, this one towing a boat, a large pontoon boat the conjures visions of a lazy day of floating on the rivers. Down the street the bright orange-yellow school buses are still. This is a day of rest for them.Yet another truck towing a boat passes, a sleek racing boat. The waters will be busy on this fine day.
The fog lifts slowly and deep green hills emerge, their tops oddly but softly flattened by the still dense fog. Downstairs I hear pots hitting steel stove burners. Breakfast is being prepared. It is time to shower, dress, eat and begin. I see a glimmer of sun escape the hovering fog.
Copyright 2007 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
Out of my window I see the black-and-whites pull in; an officer gets out of one, punches a code and enters the city building. I wonder what mischief occurred in the night or if all was merely routine patrol in this small river town. A car clatters over the brick street; a truck towing a boat heads out, perhaps for a day of fishing. Across the street a Halloween banner hangs on gambrel-roofed house that once sported a two-story front porch. The porch has been replaced by a one-dimensional deck, leaving double doors on the second floor open to nothingness. A knockout red rose blooms wildly in the yard beside a patriotic flag and a mossy cut-stone wall.
On the opposite corner a neatly trimmed hedge edges the street for a short, undefined distance. I wonder who keeps it maintained so squarely because the hedge seems to start and stop with no apparent relevance, but then I see that once it edged the entire corner until a handicapped-accessible curb was built. Poison ivy struggles to take a stand in the hedge but it too is regimentally trimmed to a rigid box shape.
A train's engine rumbles louder and louder; a freight moving through? Where is it going and what is it hauling? Yesterday an Amtrak train passed us like we were sitting still although we were traveling about 60 miles per hour. This train sounds like its load is a heavy one, perhaps coal from the mines not far away. Mines are never far away in southern West Virginia.
Quiet descends when the train has passed. The highway below me, Route 20, is not busy at six o'clock on a Saturday morning. The town still sleeps. I, sitting in the curving bow window on the second floor of the Chestnut Revival Bed and Breakfast, watch the day begin 200 miles from my own bed yet I feel completely at home. Behind me Larry sleeps in the tall four-poster bed with downy blankets drawn to his chin. Floorboards creak with age but not human weight.
I look out at a church steeple, a tall pink brick building with an elevator room jutting from its roof, at Bluestone Tire not yet open for the day's business, and at turn-of-the-twentieth-century brick homes with dark windows. An early walker startles me. She is an elderly woman in tan slacks, white cardigan. She passes quickly, one hand on her hip as if that side is painful and needs the comfort of a touch. Her gray hair disappears around a corner. A truck passes. Larry stirs. Another truck, this one towing a boat, a large pontoon boat the conjures visions of a lazy day of floating on the rivers. Down the street the bright orange-yellow school buses are still. This is a day of rest for them.Yet another truck towing a boat passes, a sleek racing boat. The waters will be busy on this fine day.
The fog lifts slowly and deep green hills emerge, their tops oddly but softly flattened by the still dense fog. Downstairs I hear pots hitting steel stove burners. Breakfast is being prepared. It is time to shower, dress, eat and begin. I see a glimmer of sun escape the hovering fog.
Copyright 2007 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Going Across the Mountains, Day 1
Goin' cross the mountains, oh fare ye well,
Goin' cross the mountains, oh fare ye well...
Lines from an old Civil War song fit our weekend journey quite well. We traveled across the mountains to the southern part of the state to the home of our friends Ron and Wendy Perrone, who operate the Three Rivers Avian Center high atop Brooks Mountain in Summers county. It's a beautiful drive, passing stunning scenery like this:
and this:
We wound up the gravel road to their home, passing swaths of pale blue wild foxglove.
The view from their home
is worth the drive:
After an evening cookout, we headed for the bed-and-breakfast in Hinton called The Chestnut Revival. This is the place we laid our heads on this first day of our weekend trip:
More tomorrow about this place and early morning in Hinton, West Virginia.
Copyright 2007 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
Goin' cross the mountains, oh fare ye well...
Lines from an old Civil War song fit our weekend journey quite well. We traveled across the mountains to the southern part of the state to the home of our friends Ron and Wendy Perrone, who operate the Three Rivers Avian Center high atop Brooks Mountain in Summers county. It's a beautiful drive, passing stunning scenery like this:
and this:
We wound up the gravel road to their home, passing swaths of pale blue wild foxglove.
The view from their home
is worth the drive:
After an evening cookout, we headed for the bed-and-breakfast in Hinton called The Chestnut Revival. This is the place we laid our heads on this first day of our weekend trip:
More tomorrow about this place and early morning in Hinton, West Virginia.
Copyright 2007 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
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